


And My First Sin was a Fear that Made me Old

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Enemies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>killian's feelings cause him to play the fool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And My First Sin was a Fear that Made me Old

**Author's Note:**

> a prologue. should be over-all a short story, and posted up in the next day or two in completion.
> 
> EDIT: i've been very busy this week, but i promise this story will be finished over the weekend.

Killian's eyes roamed the choppy waves, not lingering or truly even seeing the view spread before him. It was dark, and the crew slept below decks. His eyes were red-rimmed from a long night spent pouring over maps, unable to tear his eyes away from the route they plotted, from their course...from the vague shot in the dark they'd taken in desperation to try and find Neverland once more, for the island never seemed to remain still. Perhaps it was ocean that hid it from his sights. Bitter inside with the turmoil of months spent turning in his sleep, exhausted from the dark thoughts that ran through it. He was sure Pan had known before they'd left that island what would become of his brother-- he was _sure_. 

He was also sure Peter Pan was not all he appeared to be. There was cunning in him, a great intelligence that differed from the age he portrayed. A cleverness and a ruthlessness that would never have been able to come from such a boy. He was sure Pan had shown him that slight glimpse of hope knowing fully well what the consequences would be once they'd left the island, perhaps he had meant it to weigh so heavily in Killian's mind until it drove him mad with anger and a need for revenge drove them together once more. Until he could no longer resist the temptation, for his sorrow to twist into the throws of anger, bitter and intense and heavy enough to sit in his mind, weight enough to counter reason.

Unwise, perhaps, but he would repay all the indecencies committed against him and take up arms against all who had ever opposed him. In the back of his mind, it quietly chimed that perhaps he was naive. Young and ignorant, wronged and angry, he was fueled by the fires of his hatred.

So long he sat in his stupor, his reverie away from his conscious mind and thought that he'd almost missed the nearly imperceptible shift in presence. The light creaking of the planks behind him called to him his attention, and he turned quickly with a snap of his head in time to see dark shadow brush past the mast, reflected from nothing, stained across the planks like spilled ink. Killian didn't pause, pulled the pistol from his waist, shooting what would have been the head on any other being.

A pause, black eyes turned in his direction, laughing soundlessly he was sure, hands raised to mouth before melting along the ridges and seams of the ship until it melted into the sky.

Killian didn't leave the bow of the ship for the next three days of the voyage, not until his feet touched upon dry land. Warm sand on a sunny beach and a forest full of life which he contempted with every fiber of his being.


End file.
